


Smiling Doubts

by Zodiac



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, M/M, Post episode 65/Voicemail, Schizophrenia, Schizophrenic Carlos, Smiling God is a massive asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3691248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zodiac/pseuds/Zodiac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After entering the other desert, Carlos' schizophrenia flares back up in the absence of his medication. All three of the usual voices in his head began to offer their thoughts on his situation... along with one new, unusual one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smiling Doubts

**Author's Note:**

> This idea started as a comment from [Deyanira](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Deyanira) while we were Skyping and I decided to write a thing about it because I liked it.

_He doesn’t care about you._  There was the masculine voice, always harsh and biting with its words when it did decide to speak.

 _Why hasn’t he called back yet? It_ does _seem rather suspicious to me._  There was the feminine voice, sometimes conversational in tone, sometimes painfully shrill. Right now, it was an unwelcome mix of the two.

 _He just hasn’t called back_ yet _, that’s all. Don’t think too much about it._  There was the gender-indeterminate voice, the most welcome of the three right now. At worst, it simply commented on his life as though it was little more than a television show. At its rare best, it offered murmured words of encouragement as though he was its favorite character going through a rough time. Either way, its tone was carefully kept neutral, making any of its attempts at placating him sound… wrong.

Well, that and the fact that it was a fabrication of Carlos’ own mind and he knew it.

He stared down at the phone in his hand, waiting,  _hoping_  for some indication that Cecil had listened to the numerous voicemails he had left on his boyfriend’s phone. The medication he had in his lab coat pocket when he crossed the threshold of that old oak door didn’t last nearly long enough and the schizophrenia that he had for as long as he could remember had free reign over his mind without the meds stamping it down. In addition to all of the unpleasant withdrawal symptoms he was suffering through, the hallucinations returned full-force. The visual hallucinations he could easily dismiss as being desert mirages, even though he knew that they were most likely a product of the schizophrenia. The auditory ones, however…

 _He’s probably finally decided to go off to fuck someone who’s actually there._  The masculine voice rumbled through his mind.  _Maybe Dave. Maybe some other member of your team that cares about you so_ very _much. Hell, he’d probably bend over for anyone as long as they were there, unlike you._

“And unlike you?” Carlos replied out-loud, knowing full-well that arguing with the voices was an effort in futility, but it would at least let him focus on something other than the nagging worry that had begun a few hours after the last voicemail he had left on Cecil’s phone. The angry snarl he got in return brought a small smirk to his face. The next voice instantly wiped it away.

 _Now, now, there is no sense in arguing, you two. Arguing lowers productivity for all and that, above everything else, is a cardinal sin._  It was another gender-indeterminate voice, but… it clearly wasn’t human, its tempo and pitch constantly jumping and shifting as it spoke. It was newer than the others, only there after he had entered this strange desert landscape. When it spoke, the other voices quieted as though its mere presence smothered them. That part of the voice didn’t worry him.

It was the fact that it had introduced itself as the Smiling God that did.

“…What do you want now?” Carlos asked quietly, unnerved and scared more by this singular voice than when the others in his head ganged up on him. There was always a reason for the Smiling God to speak up and he never liked any of them.

_Now? There are many things that I desire now. Your undying loyalty, a new radio personality to assist in spreading my influence across the land, the whole of Night Vale… Many, many things…_

“Cut the shit, I already know all of that.” He growled, rubbing his head, not enjoying the budding headache that listening to that unnatural voice was beginning to cause. “You could just take my body over if you wanted to and Night Vale and Cecil will never bow to you.”

_Ah, but that would not be the same as you. Were I to take control of you, your mind might simply burn up under the strain. Besides, the people of Night Vale trust and know you so pathetically much that even they might notice the changes were I to control your body. That radio host of yours would be the first to notice if he could. Though… I do not believe he will be much of a threat in that regard anymore._

“What have you done to him?!” Carlos immediately roared, leaping up to his feet, not caring if any members of the giant masked army walked in on him shouting to himself at this point. “I swear, if you harmed a single hair on his head..!”

I _have done nothing to him._ It answered, a sickly cruel glee wriggling its way into its tone.  _I would be perfectly content to claim responsibility for his current state, but that would be lying and even gods cannot perform sins such as that. No, I believe that all blame for his condition right now falls on those closest to him, particularly you._

He paused, still wanting to scream and rage, but when his own voice came out, it was a ragged whisper. “…What the fuck are you talking about?”

 _There is a reason as to why he is refusing to call back, Scientist. Now, the question is; is it because he is occupied or because he simply does not wish to?_  And then, it was gone, lying dormant in some corner of his mind to cackle while watching him break.

Carlos pressed himself back against the wall he had been sitting against, slumping back down to that position as he gripped his phone tighter, squeezing it until the buttons on the sides made indentations in his palm. For the first time in his life, he wished for the other voices in his head to come back now.

At least he could try to fight against those.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and wanted to screech at me in a manner similar to socializing, then you can find my Tumblr right [here](http://catsandcomposers.tumblr.com/).


End file.
